


A Cup of Coffee

by Nagiru



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: (I mean the child is actually a teenager and they don't do anything more than flirt with each other), Conan does not change back into Shinichi during the story, Fluff, Gen, Is it slow burn when there are only 2 chps and 3k words?, It's more shonen-ai than actual romance be warned, Kaito flirts with him anyway, M/M, Underage but I don't know if it's actual underage, and a bit of angst, coffee dates, prompt, slight language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagiru/pseuds/Nagiru
Summary: Trying to run away from KID's fans in a café that was way too small for the heist that KID had announced, Conan wasn't planning on finding the thief himself working as a barista - but, well, sometimes luck does favor him, even if he doesn't always believe so. And just like that, a coffee offer becomes something more.(For Shana_Fuijoka's Prompt: "Coffee Dates")





	1. First Date (It's a heist, damn it!)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shana_Fujioka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shana_Fujioka/gifts).
  * Inspired by [KaiShin/ShinKai Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635951) by [Shana_Fujioka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shana_Fujioka/pseuds/Shana_Fujioka). 



> I'm not very good with romance, be warned. I mostly kept KID and Conan's interaction to mentions of what was happening and that was that, because I really don't know how to write people flirting or things of the type, sorry.
> 
> As I mentioned on the tags: Conan is still Conan by the end of the story, so it is mostly a KidCon fanfic. If you have a problem with that, please, now it's time for you to leave. As I also mentioned, however, they don't do anything; they flirt (kind-of), have "dates", and that's it. There are no touches, no kisses, not even a hug. It could be friendship, mostly, if not for the very end, when the feelings get a little bit more "open".
> 
>  
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Magic Kaito, Detective Conan and its characters do not belong to me, but to Aoyama Gosho. The story was written by me, however, and the original prompt came from Shana_Fujioka and it’s called “Coffee Dates”.

 

**First Date (It’s a Heist, damn it!)**

 

Conan sighed harshly, annoyed at the masses centered on the café. This was his favorite café, but he would bet that it would never be empty again, and all because of KID.

Stupid, annoying, outrageous KID.

He was a _jewel’s_ thief, for goodness sake! Yet here he was, planning a heist on a coffee shop to steal a painting that was obviously fake.

Only to annoy him, really, that _had_ to be the reason behind it.

As the crowd drew closer, Conan slipped away, using his small body for his advantage, running between legs and chairs so he could reach the counter that was decidedly empty, so far away it was from the night’s target.

He got there fully intending to drop into a stool and wait in peace for the heist to begin and end, since he had already deduced that KID would appear in the middle of the crowd and disappear the very same way (much to the police annoyance, that was stationed on all openings trying to stop costumers from entering. Really, this heist had been planned simply to annoy the law, hadn’t it?), but just as he was settling in, he glanced at the barista and just — _stared_. There was something… tingling at the back of his mind. Something familiar.

Something… _KID_.

He hopped up with a smirk, staring straight at the disguised thief before him. “So,” he hummed, “we both know who you are, so I’ll just give you two options.” He was being kind, really. KID deserved jail for ruining _his_ café. “You either hand yourself in to the police,” _of course_ , “or you can brew me coffee.”

What? It had been too long since he had had any good coffee, as it wasn’t “healthy” for “such a young kid”.

KID, of course, didn’t know that, as he just kept staring at him as if he had two heads. Really, it wasn’t even his fault. Or that weird. He’d done stranger things to catch murderers before.

After a few more seconds of staring, Conan huffed annoyed. “Okay, whatever, I’m going to tell Nakamori that you’re KID. If you’re still here when I come back, then it’s your own stupidity’s fault.”

Finally snapping out of it, KID reached out and grabbed Conan’s wrist before he could jump down. “Wait, wait! Coffee, right? Black?”

 _Yes._ “Surprise me,” Conan found himself saying, even when he _clearly_ meant to agree. Must be KID’s fault, the idiotic thing.

KID grinned and started working the several machines that should give Conan his coffee. Satisfied with the deal — and hoping, silently, he could make KID late to his own heist as payback —, Conan settled back on his seat, humming happily with the smells drifting to his nose.

Watching KID work was strangely… amusing. Or, not amusing, exactly, but — he wasn’t sure; fulfilling? Satisfying? Curious, he settled for.

KID’s hands, and by the way KID moved Conan knew there was nothing hiding them, had long, thin and calloused fingers. Magician’s fingers. Expected. Not surprising. Absorbing other information, however, Conan could tell that KID actually practiced a lot more magic than was necessary for his heists; either a perfectionist or magic was his hobby. (Conan half thought it was both.) KID’s arms had strength, but not too much; exercise, but not a sport. Good shoulders as well. An acrobat, of course, with the stunts he pulled at his heists. Good upper body strength.

The most curious part, however, was KID’s face. By analyzing the light and the smell, Conan was almost certain that this, this face right before him, was KID’s _real_ face. No masks. Simply some make-up powder to sharpen and soften his facial features —, which, as Conan had realized at their first meeting, were those of a very young man. And, even more, KID’s _eyes_. Conan was almost certain those were _KID’s_ eyes, because they resembled the shade that Conan would get a glimpse of whenever he was chasing the thief around, and they were such an… unique color. Not blue exactly, but something along its shades; violet, maybe, or indigo. Dark, brilliant, alive.

KID was unmasked before Conan, and the only thing Conan was worrying about was whether KID’s coffee would be nice.

Really.

KID’s idiocy _must_ catch.

With another huff, Conan turned his eyes away, staring at — anything; the crowd, the painting, the clock high up in the wall (one hour to the heist. He felt childish giddiness creeping up again. The _thought_ of making KID late…).

“Here you are!” Proclaimed proudly the thief, catching his attention once again. He was grinning broadly down at Conan, teeth showing and lips curled in something that Conan had to imagine was… _honesty_. Real amusement. For some reason or another, KID was… _happy_ at doing this. _Why?_ “Hope you enjoy it, tantei-kun.”

Cautious about KID’s sudden happiness, Conan brought the cup up to his nose instead of his lips.

It smelled… sweet. Absurdly sweet. The heavy scent of coffee was still there, teasing him just out of reach, but there was also something else. Not exactly caramel, nor simply sugar or cream. Chocolate?

He took a sip. And promptly gulped down half of the content in a second.

“ _Damn_ ,” he murmured appreciatively, eyes closed to better taste the coffee on his tongue. He had fully been expecting something terrible and police-station-worthy or even something to trick him, but KID was actually a _good_ barista. “If you’re this good at brewing coffee, I just might keep you around, KID,” he announced trapping his moan inside.

He opened his eyes a second later to a surprised look on KID’s face. Had he actually missed some trick or another, then?

“You’re…” KID started blinking slowly, eyebrows high up. “You actually liked it?”

“Please tell me I did not just miss a poison or another,” Conan remarked, eyes narrowing down. This was becoming even more suspicious now. Maybe KID had cheated when he looked away?

“No! Tantei-kun! I thought you knew me!” protested KID just as Conan finished speaking, and Conan finally relaxed. “I would never poison someone. I just… Thought you were more of a black coffee kind of person. You know. And I didn’t know you could make a _good_ critic of something a criminal gave you.”

Conan huffed. “Good job reminding me I was complimenting a _criminal_ , KID. Very beneficial for you.”

KID actually laughed at it, eyes warm and voice low. “Well, I always aim to please, tantei-kun. If that means brewing you coffee _and_ pointing out that I’m a thief — what can you do?”

“Idiot.”

Oops. Had he spoken that one out loud?

“Tantei-kun!”

… Yep.

He hid his smirk behind the cup, sipping at the remaining coffee with a longing giddiness coming from the idea of it running out. “You are, it is not my fault,” he pointed out, stomping down on the feeling of a smile. “And, are you sure you can keep calling me something so obvious this loud? We are pretty isolated from the rest of your fans and the police, but you never know. If someone hears you…”

KID cooed, “Are you worried about little me, tantei-kun? Or are you just trying to get me to call you by name?”

Conan did not flush. He did glare at the stupid thief. “Of course not! And you get annoyed when I call you idiot… idiot.”

KID laughed again, hand sneaking too close to Conan for the detective’s comfort. Keeping himself as still as possible, Conan kept staring at KID’s invading hand until it came too close for him to really see it. Just as he was readying himself to jump down, however, the hand contacted his head. His hair, actually.

Was KID _petting_ him?

Shaking his head angrily, Conan slapped one hand on KID’s. “Stop that!”

KID hummed, but graciously folded back into his disguise behind the counter, face open and sociable, but clearly masking his feelings. “If that’s what you wish for, Conan-kun.”

Eyes wide, Conan glared at him again just in time to catch his wink and the smoke explosion that made him cough.

When the smoke went down, KID was already in the middle of the crowd, making some big speech of some kind, and Conan finished his coffee before following him.

A glance at the clock in the wall showed him that he had failed in his attempt to make KID late. The thief had actually started his heist _earlier_ than planned.

Well. He wouldn’t complain, he thought as he laughed.

A win was still a win.


	2. Similar (not) Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was going to be a two-shot. I added a few things, it became longer than I expected, I decided to cut the second chapter into two. I mean, it's not a huge chapter, less than 2500 words, but seeing how the first one had less than 1500... To follow on the same model, the story is now a three-shot.  
> Next and last chapter should be coming tomorrow, sorry for the delay.

** Similar (not) Dates **

 

Conan found a piece of paper on his pocket. It was simple, short, straight to the point. So unlike KID he almost believed it was an imposter — except, the caricature was correct, and who else would deliver a KID signed note _to him_?

He thought of the heist, of the stupid smirk on the stupid thief’s face, and of the warm coffee that had surprised him.

He showed up at the café at the set date and time, just like KID had asked him to.

“Hello, Conan-kun,” smiled a pretty girl sitting down at the table he had been instructed to take. She had two cups in her hands, violet eyes, and KID’s cheeks.

“Should I call you KID?” He asked as a greeting. He took the cup offered to him and, sure enough, the smell told him it was coffee. Real coffee. “Or do you prefer some alias?”

She shrugged, long hair tumbling down darker than the last time Conan saw the thief, but still lighter than his original color. “If you wish to. You can call me Kai, if you want.”

_Kai_. Kaitou? He scoffed, but he knew he was smiling. “Of course, _Kai-nee-san_.”

He hid his laughter behind the cup when KID reacted with a shaky eyebrow and a nerve jumping on his jaw. KID recovered quickly, of course, face smoothing down and hands steady when he took a sip of his own beverage.

“So, how you’re doing, Conan-kun?” she asked lightly, face set on a smile that was simple and nice, and that put Conan on the edge very quickly.

Was KID expecting them to chitchat? Conan ignored him studiously, drinking from his own cup instead. Once again, the coffee was the best coffee he had ever had. This time, it was actually a lot stronger, but it still had just a hint of sweet — vanilla, Conan guessed —, that balanced the taste perfectly. If asked, Conan wouldn’t be able to say which one was better, despite liking his coffee strong.

“So? Did you like it?” asked KID leaning forward with a face that seemed almost — anxious. Curious.

Conan drank some more before deciding he could answer him; after all, if KID knew he liked KID’s coffee, maybe he would keep brewing them for Conan, right?

“Yeah,” he nodded, putting the cup down. “It’s pretty nice, actually. Do you make much coffee?”

With a satisfied grin, KID leaned back into his seat. “No, not really, I’m more of a chocolate person,” he admitted raising his own cup. “Coffee is too bitter for my tastes.”

KID had a sweet tooth. For some reason, that didn’t surprise Conan. It might even explain why he seemed so hyper all the time, actually. Like a child high on sweets — he grinned at the thought; maybe that was the correct trap for the thief, after all. A huge chocolate cake.

“What are you laughing about?” asked KID suspiciously, staring at him with even more intensity.

Conan grinned some more, raising his childish charm to its maximum. “Nothing, Kai-nee-san. I just thought of a good joke,” he answered sweetly.

KID did not buy it for a second, Conan could tell.

It didn’t matter.

 

* * *

 

KID’s next heist, Conan actually brought him a piece of chocolate cake. Conan had expected a glare for using something so obvious, or maybe some teasing — he had dreamed, shamefully, of being able to use it as a bait, and actually taking away KID’s disguise. Nothing of those things happened (he hadn’t actually been expecting the last one to happen. He had become disappointed anyway).

What _actually_ happened was that KID smiled so brightly that Conan thought he would become blind from it.

“Thank you, tantei-kun!” he had said.

When he left, the cake had disappeared with him and the jewel was sitting obviously on Conan’s hands.

Really.

What kind of thief preferred to steal a cake than a jewel?

 

* * *

 

“Nice to see you came, Conan-kun,” KID said smiling from the seat across his table. This time, KID was a male, light hair but no mask, once again. “I was half afraid you had ran out of curiosity by now.”

Conan frowned, getting the cup that was sitting on the middle of the table. “What? I’m a detective. We’re _always_ curious.” He didn’t admit he actually came because of the coffee. It would serve only to make KID’s ego bigger. (It was true, however. KID’s coffee was quickly becoming his new addiction; it was easily the best coffee he had ever had in a very, _very_ long time).

KID laughed and shook his head. “Of course you are. At least you are a better critic than the one I’m used to,” he said leaning on the table. His face was light and calm, with clear eyes and a grin pulling just on the side of his lips, and Conan was surprised that he couldn’t identify any lie on it.

“Eh,” muttered Conan not knowing what to say. He kept looking at KID for a while, before remembering a question that had been burning inside him for a while now. “Right. Speaking of curiosity, why did you steal a falsified painting, anyway?”

KID grinned, “Yes.”

Was he insane?

“That’s not an answer, you know.”

With a sigh that spoke of long suffering — which pissed Conan off quite a bit —, KID finally explained himself. “You already said the answer. It was falsified. The poor owner thought it was a real painting, so I helped him realize it wasn’t. See? Simple!”

Conan blinked at him — yeah, he had cleared some falsifications a while ago, but… “It’s cute that you try to end falsifiers’ works, really, but… I’m pretty sure the owner knew that painting was false, actually,” he mentioned, because KID was being simply stupid now. “He is the owner of a _café_. I don’t think he has enough money to buy a real Picasso. He only bought it because it was pretty.”

Conan watched amused as KID processed that information; it was quite the process, and had some quiet sounds and big eyes, and it was so out of character for the thief that Conan was grinning at the end of it all.

“Idiot,” he proclaimed with a laugh, before turning back to his coffee.

None of them realized that it wasn’t as sharp a proclamation as the last time Conan said it.

 

* * *

 

 

They started to meet every other week. KID would send Conan a message at Mouri’s detective agency, and Conan would go find the thief at any place required.

At first they spent less than an hour at those meetings; they would talk a little, drink their beverages, and be gone before they could be caught by any associate of either of them. After two months, food started to appear with the coffee — cakes and pies, mostly —, and they would linger just a bit more.

During their meetings, Conan gradually stopped deducing and started — learning things. He learned, from the thief himself, what KID liked, what he didn’t. He learned to wait for people to give information about themselves on their own pace, and, slowly, he decided it was okay to open himself to the thief, in return. It wasn’t something big or explosive, and it was slow-going, but Conan thought that maybe — maybe —, this was what Ran had always told him about, whenever she said he had to stop being a detective to people and just be a friend.


	3. (Self-)Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really, I was going to wait until tomorrow. My internet, on the other hand, had other plans. As in, it decided it hated me and went away for the whole day, I just got a connection, and thought "okay, let's upload the last chapter now, lest you decide to leave again tomorrow".  
> So. Last chapter. This is it. The climax of romance of the whole story. The end. Yey.  
> Hope you enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

** (Self-)Revelations  ** _ (oh, shut up) _

By the fourth month, Conan couldn’t think of KID as KID anymore.

Two weeks later, he glared at Kai until the thief got the message, and they talked.

“So,” Kai resumed after he finished, “you chased after suspicious people and a poison turned you into a child. And here I thought that a witch was the strangest thing I could meet. At least that explains your mind, I suppose.”

Kai’s reaction to knowing that Conan was actually a teenager was — well. Conan couldn’t say he had been _surprised_. He couldn’t say he had expected it, either.

“You’re stupid,” Conan sighed in return, lips pulling into a small smile. “Leave it to you to believe me without any proof.”

Kai laughed, leaned back into his chair and ate his cake. In all honesty, he acted as if it was the same as when Conan said he liked Sherlock Holmes — as if he already _expected_ it. “Did you?” he asked curiously. “Expect something like this,” he explained at the blank stare he received.

Kai hummed noncommittally, “Don’t know. Never thought you had taken a poison or anything, but… As I said, witch. I guess I was half expecting you to say you had been cursed with a small body. Or, don’t know, with an adult’s mind.”

He still doubted that Kai actually knew a real witch, really. Even with Kai’s strangeness, that one was out of reality.

He shook his head and took the last few sips of his coffee, pleased with this outcome.

“Ah,” Kai got his attention once again, “should I call you Shinichi, then?”

“ _No_!” he answered immediately, thinking of Hattori. “I don’t need someone else calling me by name when I’m in hiding!”

Kai actually made an affronted look at that, all pouting and frowning. “Hey! You think I can’t remember a couple of names, Shin-chan?” he complained, “It’s how I _live_! But, alright, so be it. If that’s what you want, then I suppose I’ll just have to call you Co-chan, then.”

Conan made sure to groan extra loudly at that one and _absolute_ sure to hide his grin under a frown.

Really, Kai was such a stupid thief. He wasn’t sure why he actually bothered.

 

* * *

 

 

The next week, Kai started with, “My name is actually Kuroba Kaito.”

It ended with a fantastical tale of a mythical gem that was supposed to give immortality to whoever drank its tears. (Maybe, he thought, the witch was real, then. It was better than a jewel that cried, at least.)

After a while, Conan realized this was the first time that Kai had appeared without any disguise, be it a different color to his hair or some powder hiding his most prominent features.

“Call me Kaito,” Kuroba would whine after a while, when Conan finally managed to exchange the thief’s names in his mind. “You’re no fun, Co-chan. I give you a pet name and you try to call me by my surname. Aren’t we on a date?”

“It’s not a date!” he complained automatically.

Later he would notice it certainly hadn’t been the last time.

 

* * *

 

“You know,” started Kuroba a few days later. “I don’t know why we haven’t exchanged numbers yet.”

Conan blinked at him, “Makes sense.”

Kuroba grinned happily — and Conan had learned that Kuroba was actually a lot like KID, in the end, full of mischief and hyper all the time, but also much _different_ from the thief, with how he could just keep quiet and find fun from something as simple as brewing them coffee.

“Right? We’ve been having dates every other day, now. We could at least text each other!” he said happily, phone appearing on his hands with a small gesture.

_Dates_. “I’ve told you, these aren’t _dates_!” Conan complained, taking his own phone out. “We’re _meeting_.”

Kuroba laughed, the same sound that Conan had grown used to after a while of these — _meetings_. “Yeah, sure, if you say so.”

Conan glared at him to assure himself he was still correct about them, but they exchanged numbers without another word of complaint from either of them, and Conan relaxed, thinking he had finally silenced Kuroba.

“So, should I save you as _koibito_ or as _koi-chan_? Maybe I can put it down as Ko-chan, because then it sounds like your nickname, right, Co-chan?”

Scratch that. Kuroba was going to _die_.

 

* * *

 

Next time that Conan was invited to one of their _meetings_ (they weren’t dates!), he arrived to the week’s café to the sight of Kuroba Kaito shivering excited by the door.

“You’re here!” he exclaimed quickly, grabbing one of Conan’s hands. “I was thinking we could take this date somewhere else, this time!”

Before Conan could start to complain — _it’s not a date, damn it!_ —, he was been pulled along by the over excited teenager.

They stopped at a nearby park, mostly quiet but for a couple of younger children. Kuroba sat him at a bench, gave him his coffee — Conan had, by this time, stopped trying to decipher what was in each coffee; they were bitter and they were sweet, and it was _beautiful_ on his taste buds —, and Kuroba sat by his side before starting to talk.

They chatted over the stupidest things; books, school, friends, the weather. Kuroba said he had a new project. Conan admitted to _enjoying_ the Detective Boys’ company, after being prodded by Kuroba. They talked over sports, over mysteries, over past crushes.

Conan found himself laughing more times than he could count, found himself leaning into Kuroba’s side, and he had the briefest moment when he thought “it’s the first time I’m being myself”, before he forgot it with something else that Kuroba said, with something else he did.

When a pack of children came closer and Kuroba started to perform magic for all of them, Conan found himself enjoying the show for the first time in his life. He knew how half of those tricks were done, but he simply didn’t care; for the first time, he actually leaned back and observed, coffee heavy on his mouth, and cheeks hurting from the smile he had on his face.

At the end of the day, he might or might not have thought, when saying goodbye to Kuroba, “maybe I like you.”

He said nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

If asked, Conan would say that he was simply trying to keep KID’s identity a secret when he saved Kuroba’s number as Kai.

Actually, when typing him a text, Conan often gazed at the name and smiled softly, thinking of how KID had smiled when he had first called him “Kai” without a single drop of teasing on his voice. It had become something natural, somewhere along the way; he wasn’t KID, he was Kai.

And then he became Kuroba Kaito, and he had no liberty to call him Kaito, because that was his given name, even though Kaito _had_ given it to him and consequently thought that Conan kept calling him by his surname to annoy him. It wasn’t. Actually, Conan called him Kuroba because calling him Kaito would be taking it _too close._ And, for someone who put everyone around him in danger, too close was something he simply couldn’t do.

And because, if he allowed himself to call him Kaito, he knew he would start thinking about their meetings as dates — and Conan _couldn’t_ have dates.

Because, in the end, Conan was a mask of an eight-year-old boy that needed to be shed at some point, and because he was, at least to everyone else, _a child_.

In the middle of the night, warm under his covers, when Conan allowed himself to be Shinichi again, however, he always thought of his companion as Kaito, as Kai, and he always, _always_ , wondered when the next date would come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riiiiight, I used a couple of Japanese words, right? So. "Koibito" = Boyfriend. "Koi" might both be a petname from "koibito" or simply, as it is, passionate love (as in: being IN love). "Ko-chan", if anyone had any doubt, was Kaito abbreviating "Koi" even more just so it could also be "Co-chan".  
> So, unless I write some extras, that's it. Hope you liked it.
> 
> (If anyone is interested, I just thought to share what I thought would happen to them: Shinichi will, eventually, get the antidote after taking down the BO. Kaito, of course, will help him on taking down the Organization - and, in return, Shinichi will help _him_ take down his own. After getting his body back, Shinichi will, finally, admit their dates are, well, dates. Kaito will be overjoyed.  
>  Shinichi actually deals with trouble from Ran, of course, because she's pissed at him for not letting her know to move on; she'll forgive him, but she'll be hurt, and Shinichi will hide with Kaito during that time.  
> Oh, and Shinichi takes around a week or two before finally craving and calling Kaito by his name after getting his body back; they start dating not long after, but Kaito was pretty sure they were dating since Shinichi was still Conan, and Ran was thinking they were together since before Shinichi "came back" from his case. So, you know, the only one who took that long to admit they were boyfriends was, really, Shinichi. Go figure.)


End file.
